Snacking on Goldfish and chardonnay

I’m on the road with limited choices, so I’m snacking on Goldfish crackers and swilling a bottle of ordinary Forestville Chardonnay. So totally me. Someone said to choose your bottles wisely. Because I’m on the road, my options are limited. However, I killed off the last of the Forestville Chardonnay. Since I live in Wine country, it’s not hard to choose just one favorite wine. I do love all of the northern Sonoma County Chardonnays. Way better than the Napa Chardonnays, which are way overrated, not to mention overpriced. Forestville, a place where I once lived, is fine. But it was bought out, and the new owners have traded marketability for swillability. 

Actually, my back is killing me from being on the road, all that driving from Sebastopol to San Jose and the aspirin didn’t even make a dent. I took four baby aspirin this afternoon, and it helped minimally. I cannot take Tylenol. And I try to avoid Advil at all costs, I seem to gag on it more often than not, so my drug pool is limited. I’m pretty sure my body is trying to tell me something important about Advil right now. I had to take so much of it when I tore my knee I think I ODd on it. 

I’m living in a strange little basement apartment where I’m staying for the next couple of days while I teach poetry to kids in San Jose, but I like it. The bathroom is only 6 feet tall. Hobbitish.  But a long hot shower on my aching back was beyond divine. 

So, will I go to hell in a handbasket for eating lemon curd straight out of the jar? If only I had some here. However, the Chardonnay ain’t bad with my killer pancakes. Just had one slathered with lemon curd. Yes, the saltiness of the Goldfish and the vague cheesiness sets off the Chardonnay nicely. And the fact that there are baby kitty sleeping next to me, I can barely contain my joy. I could be miserable, but I choose not to go there. I treat it all like a big adventure wondering what will come next. I am a miner of joy, reveling in the ordinary and the profound.

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